Reading Between the Lines
by narcissy12
Summary: Harry Potter had been dumped by his long-time girlfriend and was looking for a distraction. Claire Gardner was an American, fresh out of college, who discovered powers she never knew existed. What happened to Harry in those 19 years? Cannon compatible.
1. Claire's Story

"Dammit," muttered Claire Gardner. It was only the second day of her new job and she was running very late. Her roommate's yorkie puppy, Maleficent, had refused to cooperate this morning. Too small to wear a collar, Millie, as she was referred to in public, had to be carried around in the backyard and put down in promising grassy spots in the hopes that she might feel like going to the bathroom. It had taken a good ten minutes, but canine urination was finally achieved. Claire hated waiting for her, but she hated coming home to a spotty carpet even more. Her roommate, Lauren, was completely worthless when it came to all things dog or carpet related… among other things.

As Claire ran around her bedroom grabbing clothing and her second classiest high-heeled shoes from the backs of chairs and corners of closets her cell phone made a short binging noise. A text message had just come in. It was from Lauren.

_For the love of god, keep it down in there. I'm trying to fucking sleep._

"Ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous." As much as Claire hated living with Lauren, it had become incredibly difficult to cut her loose as a roommate. They had lived together since freshman year of college, but since both had graduated, only Claire had managed to get a job while Lauren stayed home all day and perused bars all night.

Claire yanked on her favorite purple blouse and accompanying pencil skirt, then dashed to the bathroom. After quickly brushing out her straight auburn hair, she grabbed her makeup bag and prepared to run out the door. She could wait to apply a couple swipes of mascara and blush until she hit one of the numerous red lights that cropped up on the way to work.

It looked like everything was going to be ok. If she left now, Claire could probably make it to work with a few minutes to spare. Her slender build looked attractive and professional in the outfit she had chosen for the day, and she was having a good hair day.

It wasn't until she walked past the kitchen that Claire realized something was wrong.

The sink.

The sink was full to the brim with dirty dishes. This seemed impossible, since Claire had washed about twenty meals worth of dishes just the night before. There was only one person who could have caused this kind of devastation within six hours time.

Claire knew it was silly to get so worked up over a messy sink, but the morning had been so hectic that she couldn't help the flood of emotions that overcame her. She felt her face turn bright red as rage bubbled up inside her. "I'm going to kill her!!! Even better, I'M GOING TO SCRATCH ALL OF HER DVD'S!!!!"

Before she could even walk the few steps toward Lauren's prized DVD collection, Claire felt something she had never experienced before. A spot in the center of her chest seemed to grow warm and begin to spread.

"Ohhhhh man, something is definitely wrong…" The sensation continued to move until it covered her entire body. Then, all at once, it seemed to burst forth from her abdomen. Before Claire even knew what was happening, the dishes in the sink had moved, _on their own_, and shot straight at Lauren's door! The glasses shattered on impact, but the dishes themselves were made of sturdier stuff. Two of them crashed through the door, leaving saucer shaped holes in their wake. Claire heard the plates make contact with Lauren's window, followed by a blood curdling scream.

"REAL MATURE CLAIRE! MAYBE NEXT TIME JUST TELL ME YOU'RE PISSED! I'M NOT CLEANING THIS SHIT UP!"

Claire couldn't respond. _I must be dreaming. Maybe this is a nightmare, and that's why this morning has sucked so much. On the other hand, if this isn't a dream and I'm late for work, I might as well submit my application to McDonald's or call Mom and tell her I'm moving home._

With that thought, she grabbed her purse and makeup bag and left the apartment without saying a word.

* * *

In the car, Claire let herself think about what had just happened. _If it wasn't a dream, I'm hallucinating for sure. It's probably the stress about the new desk job. Maybe I should go see a shrink… Nahhhh that's a stupid idea. I'll just call Katie later._

Katie had been Claire's best friend since high school. They had been on the same volleyball team and bonded over their mutual hatred for their coach, a hard-ass who thought a good practice meant working in a two mile run. Talking to Katie about a problem would probably be just as therapeutic as talking to a psychologist, but it would be a whole lot cheaper. Katie would surely be able to tell Claire why she had thrown a sink full of dishes at Lauren's door and then imagined that they had done it on their own volition. Katie might even have an explanation for the added strength Claire would have needed to create those holes. Even though Claire had always been the more rational of the two, Katie would still be able to talk her down.

Claire had been driving with the windows down since the air conditioning in her Mazda 6 was currently unresponsive. The hot Florida air whipped her hair around her face and neck as she got closer and closer to the offices of Morrison & Coffman where she worked as a secretary for the law firm. As she turned left to pull into the parking lot, an owl swooped through the passenger window and out the driver's side window, nearly clipping Claire's face with its wing. After a very colorful exclamation of surprise, which she hoped none of her coworkers had overheard, she noticed that there was an envelope on the front passenger's seat that she didn't recognize.

_I swear this wasn't here a second ago…_

She grabbed the envelope and her purse and rushed to the building's entrance. She got to her desk with only one minute to spare.

* * *

"Good morning, Claire! Ready for your second day of the most exciting job in the state?"

Jeff Kraul had approached Claire the second she set her purse down. At six feet, he towered over Claire's petite 5'5" frame. He had good looks and charm working in his favor, but Claire had a strict "no assholes" policy when it came to dating which had prevented him from procuring her number the day before. Jeff worked as a clerk in the building, and tasks often brought him by her desk.

"Yeah, just as soon as I get some exciting coffee to start it out."

"Oh sorry, we're all out. I can offer you its droll or lackluster counterpart. And if you ask really nicely, I'll throw in a humdrum donut."

Claire couldn't help but smile at his mode of attack. That crooked smile and strong jaw made most girls swoon. Which is why Claire knew better than to fall for his tricks. No matter how smooth he may be. She wouldn't be surprised if she found out that he had met Lauren on some night out and used all his usual lines on her, too.

"I think I'll pass on the coffee if it's really that bad. I'd take a donut, though. Pretty please?" This exchange worked like a charm, and Jeff went off to find his coworker breakfast.

With the desk to herself, Claire picked up the mysterious envelope that had appeared in her car. It appeared to be a letter. The address read:

_Claire Gardner_

_2004 Mazda 6_

_D73FG1_

_Driver's Seat_

_Either this is an elaborate prank, or I am definitely hallucinating, _Claire thought to herself. She opened the envelope and started reading.

_Dear Miss Gardner,_

_It has come to the attention of the Congress of Magic that you performed unintentional magic at 7:25 this morning in your current residence. An official will be at your apartment at 8:00pm to discuss your options with you. We will ensure that your roommate is otherwise occupied._

_Helen Von Matterhorn_

_Secretary of Squib Relations_

_Yeah, ok_. Claire stuffed the letter into her purse just as Jeff returned holding a glazed Krispy Kreme and a styrofoam cup of steaming liquid. She didn't want Jeff to become aware that she was becoming more and more convinced of her own insanity. _The best thing to do is go about my day as if nothing has changed. Then hopefully this will all sort itself out._

_

* * *

_

Claire arrived back at her apartment at 6:00. The traffic had been awful and she was starving. Just as she expected, the dirty dishes still lay scattered in the hallway at the foot of Lauren's door. The only thing that had changed since the morning was what appeared to be a large piece of cardboard duct taped to her door to cover the holes.

Claire got out the broom and dust bin and cleaned up the mess, knowing full well that her worthless roommate would never get to it.

After a long bubble bath and a delicious meal of salmon, green beans and mashed potatoes, Claire settled in to watch the third season of CSI: Las Vegas at 7:45 just as Lauren walked past her and out the door without saying a word. Claire thought she had a rather glazed look in her eyes, but if she was already drunk at least she wouldn't be driving. Lauren never drove downtown. She always found some poor fool to let her stay over or bring her home after a long night of binge drinking. Just as Gil Grisham made a witty comment over a fresh corpse, there was a knock at the door.

Claire muted the television and looked through the peephole. Standing on her doorstep was a middle-aged woman in a long robe.

"May I help you?" Claire called through the door. She had watched too much Lifetime channel as a child, and consequently knew better than to open the door to a stranger when you were home alone.

"Hello, Claire. My name is Renada McCarty. I am here regarding the letter you received this morning."

Claire was dumbfounded. _Which one of my friends would go through all this trouble for a practical joke? I'd better just let her do her thing so I can move on with my life._ She opened the door and Renada moved in from the night.

"Thank you, Claire. Do you mind if we sit down? This might be a rather long conversation, since to my knowledge it is the first of its kind."

The two women sat down on the couch. As Claire reached for the remote to turn the TV off, the screen went blank. She hoped it wasn't broken.

"As you are by now aware, you managed to perform unintentional magic this morning for the first time. It wasn't a small blip on our radar either. You made quite a splash with your flying saucers! It provided a lot of jokes in the office today."

Claire looked at Renada blankly. She had no idea what this woman was going on about, or how she knew about the incident with the dishes, but she didn't want to ruin the joke so she let her continue. Renada, seeming a little taken aback by the lack of response from her host, continued.

"As far back as our records go, a person has never been able to perform magic if their powers hadn't manifested before the age of ten. As you are twenty-two years old and a first timer, you are quite the anomaly."

Renada paused, as if waiting for Claire to comment. Claire remained silent and waited for her to continue.

"Well… the President was notified of your accomplishment and she and a planning committee have come up with a few options for you to consider. Of course you could continue to live in the muggle world if that is your wish. We have on our records that you attended the University of Central Florida and have just begun work. If, however, you would like to try your hand at wizardry, we would be glad to assist you. There are several schools you could attend in the United States, but the best in the world is widely believed to be Hogwarts in England. If you would like to travel to England and attend school for the entire seven years, you could. Another option would be to go through a crash course of magic for a few months and then go to school for your sixth and seventh year. Since it is April right now, we could give you some training until we feel that you are ready to enter school at the appropriate level. Judging by the size of your magical outburst this morning, we feel that you will be able to pick up magic quite quickly. Would you be interested in any of these opportunities?"

Claire finally broke her silence. "Are you done? I've already missed fifteen minutes of my show. Just tell whoever put you up to this that I totally bought it and I've signed up for Hogwash, or whatever. Tell them I packed my broomstick and crafted a wand out of the orange tree out back."

"I don't understand," said Renada.

"That makes two of us," Claire replied.

"You are aware that your father was a wizard, correct?"

"That would be difficult to verify, since I never knew my father. I'm pretty sure my mom would have mentioned if my father made a habit of grinding bones to make his bread, though."

"I think you are referring to giants, but that is a common misconception. Giants can't make bread. But back on track… your father was a wizard, and a very powerful one at that. He was killed shortly before your birth. We were not surprised to learn that you had shown no magical potential. Occasionally children who grow up in unconventional environments experience a bit of underdevelopment, although it normally rights itself before they are of school age."

"Alright, you can go now. At this point I'm just hoping my TV still works. I would like to attempt to salvage my night." Claire was sure the cool science portion of the show was on, and she was missing it.

"Your television isn't broken. It, like most electronics, do not work in the presence of magic. When I leave it will turn back on. Before I go, would you like me to fix the holes in that door?" Without waiting for an answer, Renada extracted a long, wooden stick from a voluminous pocket, waved it once, and wood that had come loose from the door flew out of the trashcan and fixed itself in the place it used to occupy. Claire went over to inspect it. She looked for flaws, felt for cracks, pinched herself a few times, and turned back to her visitor.

"So… you're saying I'm half-witch?"

"No, no… you're a whole witch. Your power just never manifested until this morning."

"Sooooo… if I wanted to quit my desk job and learn to do what you just did… I could do that?"

"Most definitely."

"In that case, send me to England. Get me out of this godforsaken apartment and away from my roommate. Hook me up with one of those magic stick things. The whole thing sounds like a plan." Claire's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"We will set up transportation for you and get in touch with the U.K.'s Minister of Magic to let him know that you were receptive to the plan. We will send you a portkey when they are ready for you on their side of the pond."

"Cool. Bye."

Renada gave Claire one last look and exited the apartment. As soon as she was out the door, the television switched back on. _Man, this is the most well thought out prank I've ever come across._ She settled back down on the couch just in time to see Grisham find a flake of skin that would _surely_ be the murderer's downfall.

* * *

Claire was relieved when the weekend finally came around and she was able to spend time with Katie. The two women spent a relaxed Saturday catching up and riding their bicycles around Lake Morton.

When Claire was nearly ready to go home for the day, she mentioned the events of the beginning of the week. She had been dancing around the story all day, and had finally decided it wasn't too crazy to relate to such a close friend.

"Yeah I bet it was Kyle. Or Greg." Katie announced when the tale was over. "They're probably just mad at us for covering their cars in post-it notes."

"They shouldn't be mad about that! We gave them flames! It was a vast improvement."

"Agreed. And this sounds way too elaborate for them, but I can't think of anyone else who would go through that kind of trouble just to prank you." Katie opened the driver's door to her Honda Element and got in. "I'll call you about Tuesday. We are long overdue for a night of movie hopping."

When Claire arrived back at her house, she headed straight to the bathroom to clean up. The bike ride had been strenuous and she was feeling grimy. Once in the privacy of her room, Claire peeled off her sweat covered T-shirt and her sneakers and socks, leaving her standing in only a sports bra and shorts. It was only then that she noticed the package sitting on her bed. When she approached it for a closer look, she saw that it was addressed to her in the same way as the letter from the car.

_Claire Gardner_

_1616 Hollingsworth Dr._

_Apt 131, Room B_

_Winter Haven, FL_

_CAUTION: Package contains portkey!_

Claire scoffed at this latest attempt at pulling her leg. She ripped open the box, expecting to see something elaborate to add on to the list of crazy things that had been happening to her this week. She was very surprised to see a dilapidated stuffed rabbit with a missing eye staring back up at her.

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny."

Claire reached down to pick up the rabbit, but as soon as she touched the fabric she felt an indescribably hooking sensation originating from the small of her back. Her feet left the floor, and it felt like she was flying through space. Before Claire could even let out a scream, she had landed. She was now in a small office occupied by five men in long robes. The one closest to Claire took one look at her state of undress and said, in a thick Scottish brogue, "I guess that's how they dress in America."

Everything went back as Claire passed out cold.


	2. A Fresh Start

Before Claire opened her eyes, she could hear the voices. They didn't seem to make any sense, so she decided to pretend to be sleeping until she knew she had control of her own senses. There was just no way this was happening…

"The Minister himself came in to check on her, but she was still unconscious. The potion should take effect any minute now, though."

"Good. Miss McCarty said Miss Gardner understood and accepted our offer, but the portkey transportation must have come as quite a shock."

"Do you think she meant to arrive in her knickers?"

"Ron, that is so inconsiderate! I'm not sure she knew she was going to come to England at all. She might not even realize she's a witch."

Claire took the opportunity to open her eyes. There were two men standing at the foot of her bed. One was over six feet tall and very lanky, with flaming red hair. The other was a little shorter with short black hair and glasses.

"Have you been talking to my roommate? It's her that's a witch, not me. I always clean up after myself when I'm done making dinner," she interjected sleepily.

The man with the red hair roared with laughter while the man with the glasses gave her a sly grin that seemed amused. Then he spoke.

"My name is Harry Potter, and I am an Auror for the Ministry of Magic. This is Ronald Weasley. He runs a joke shop."

"Come on now mate! You have to explain it a little better than that! I do run a joke shop, but I'm here on behalf of my dad. He's a big-wig in the Muggle and Squib Relations Department. He meant to be here but he ran into a spot of trouble with a cursed toilet. Someone made it so the flush knob does the opposite…"

Claire allowed herself to accept the impossible, for it seemed the only possible explanation for her current predicament. "So that Renada woman was telling the truth. I'm a witch."

Harry answered, "Quite right you are! I am here to help you with your training. As an auror, I'm generally occupied with catching dark wizards. However, business is slow at the moment, and quite frankly, I'm sick of thinking about villains all the bloody time. When I heard about you I thought I would pitch in a bit."

"My dad is going to check in on you periodically and help you acclimate to the wizarding world," said Ron.

"Do you have any questions right off the bat?" Harry asked.

"Yes… Do I get a phone call? My mom has some explaining to do."

As Ron sniggered to himself, Harry reiterated what Renada had told Claire earlier in the week. Electronics don't work around magic. "We can get you set up on the floo network later so you can talk to her. That's a type of communication that wizards can do by fire. What we need to do right now is get you out of here and over to your new flat."

Harry and Ron presented Claire with some long robes to change into. As she took a better look around her, Claire realized that everyone in the wizard hospital was wearing robes. What seemed to be the magical version of doctors were walking briskly down the hallways barking orders at cowering orderlies. The three of them walked down several flights of stairs to reach the ground floor. There were several roaring fire places located along the walls. Ron threw some powder into one of the hearths and the flames turned green. He instructed her to pay attention and then stepped into the flames. He shouted "Southbridge Place!" and vanished. Harry watched Claire step into the flames and calmly mimic Ron. He smiled to himself. _She should be a real breath of fresh air._

* * *

Harry Potter was 22 years old and in the prime of his life, but he was not happy by any means. His longtime girlfriend, Ginny, had called off their relationship six months earlier and he had still not been able to move on. Ginny was partly worried that they hadn't seen enough of the world to settle on each other. _When you're the only person I've ever really been with, how can I know if you're the person I _want_ to be with for the rest of my life?_ Harry respected and loved her, so he let her go. They hadn't spoken in a month, and the only reason they had was because they were both at a Weasley family get-together.

To top things off, he was beginning to regret becoming an Auror. His entire life, up until five years ago, had been devoted to defeating the most powerful dark wizard in history. Now, after revamping the Auror department at the Ministry, he found himself mostly unoccupied. The department ran like a well-oiled machine, even though there were very few threats to be found. It was because of that amazing efficiency that Harry was able to take some time off to help a former squib develop her true powers.

When Harry had heard about Claire Gardner, he had felt that they shared some life experiences that would make him a good teacher for her to learn from. They had both grown up in the muggle world without ever being aware of their magical gifts. They had both lost parents without getting a chance to get to know them. They both had had terrible home situations before being whisked away to a brand new experience…

_And she's very pretty_, he thought to himself as he watched Claire examine her new flat. He couldn't help but notice the curve of her waist and the way her dark aubun hair fell in her face as she looked about each room.

"I'll come by in the morning and fetch you. We'll go visit Diagon Alley and get you a wand, then we can exchange some of your muggle money." Harry wasn't sure she had heard him. Claire was momentarily enchanted with a beautiful shelf that already contained all of her books from home. She decided that magic was pretty awesome. After a pause that seemed too long, she turned to Harry with a smile and replied "I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

That night, Claire wrote several letters to various people. Her boss and her friends were notified of her absence, where she tried to explain it away by claiming she was too stressed out by her new job and needed a change of scenery. The letter to Katie was the hardest. Claire told her that she wanted to explain everything, but she couldn't for a while. With a promise of full disclosure at the proper time, Claire finished the five page letter and put them in her bag to be dropped at the post the next day.

Ron had shown her how to work the floo system, so she popped her head into her mom's usually unlit hearth in her living room.

"MOM!" she yelled at the empty room.

"Claire? Where are you?"

"Right here. In the flipping fire. _Magically._ Is there something you would like to tell me?"

Her mother knelt before the fire, a silly grin on her face. "Did something happen? Can you do magic?"

"Yes mom, apparently I can. Why didn't you ever tell me that dad was a wizard?"

"Oh honey, would you have believed me? I would never have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. And when the letter for school never came, I just assumed it would be best if you never knew what you were missing out on."

"Fair enough. The main point of this visit is to tell you that I moved to England. I've got myself a magic tutor. We're going to get a wand tomorrow. And magic stuff. I guess."

Claire spent the rest of her evening reading up on the world she was now going to live in. There were a couple of books on the history of magic in her new bookshelf. One of them she found particularly interesting. It described the latest wizarding war, and outlined the heroic efforts of her new friends, Harry and Ron. She couldn't believe two heroes like them would drop everything to help a stranger. She felt a deep surge of gratitude towards Harry. She looked forward to getting to know the real him, as opposed to the stark facts that the history book presented.

* * *

Harry arrived at Claire's flat at 7am on the dot the following morning. He was surprised to see she was awake and moving about her new kitchen. He had always heard that Americans were rather lazy and enjoyed sleeping in. The reason for Claire's sprightly attitude soon became clear.

"HARRY! I haven't seen you in _forever_!"

"Er… It's been about twelve hours. Are you alright?"

"Well..." she paused and made a sweeping look around the room. Pots and pans were strewn all over the countertop, and it seemed as though the stove had been recently moved from its spot against the wall. Two untoasted poptarts lay abandoned on a cookie sheet.

Claire continued, "I forgot wizards can't use electricity. I had kind of counted on having some modern appliances in the apartment. I went around the corner to the grocery store to buy some provisions…"

"And by provisions you mean poptarts…"

"Right! Anyways, I bought all these things without realizing I don't have a toaster or a microwave anymore. A refrigerator would also be helpful. I was hoping you could show me how to work this oven. Words cannot express how hungry I am right now."

Harry put his face in his hands. _Of course she doesn't know how to cook anything on wizarding stoves! How could I have been so stupid as to leave her here without proper instructions!_ "I am so sorry, Claire! I should have realized you would have trouble with all these things. I grew up in the muggle world, as well, you know."

"Really? So you kind of understand how I'm having a little bit of culture shock right now."

"Of course. It took years for me to become at ease in the wizarding world. Everything still seemed so new and strange. How about we pick something up on our way? There's a wonderful little bakery in Diagon Alley that you might enjoy."

"Oh, thank God!"

The two stepped into the fire and floo'd to Diagon Alley. Harry marveled at the sense of wonder that appeared on Claire's face as she arrived in the bustling shopping hub. _That must have been what I looked like eleven years ago._

As they ate breakfast and walked around, Harry was shocked to discover how comfortable he was around Claire. He had forgotten what it was like to talk to someone who didn't know all the sordid details of his past. There were very few secrets in the wizarding world. Even those portions of his life that happened to stay out of the history books were well known in his community.

After helping Claire exchange her money and set up a small vault in Gringots, Harry led her towards Ollivander's. Although Ollivander had a devastatingly traumatic experience in the war, he had returned rather quickly to his wand-making. Harry had been pleased to note, in the years following the war, that Ollivander had managed to right his store, which had been ransacked by Death Eaters, so that it looked _exactly_ the way it had when Harry had gotten his wand.

A small bell chimed as they opened the door to the rather dusty store. As the two took a seat on an ancient sofa, Ollivander quietly emerged from the depths of the building. His wide eyes seemed to stare straight into his visitor's souls. _Just like old times…_

They left an hour later with a 9" wand made of willow, with a core of unicorn hair. Harry could tell Claire was itching to try it out, especially after the amazing first impression that it managed to make…

"I mean, _did you see all those bubbles?_ How cool is that!" Claire exclaimed as soon as they were hearing distance away from the shop entrance.

"I don't think Ollivander was all too pleased with them."

"Oh, I'm sure they'll pop eventually! Anyways, didn't Ron say he worked around here? We should go say hello!"

"Actually, I had planned for that to be our next stop."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Weasley's Wizard Weezes seemed to burst into view. Inside, amongst all of the magical gizmo's Ron and George made their living selling, Ron was making a well rehearsed sales pitch.

"Well I know the price is a bit steep, but it is well worth the splurge. Just picture it!" Ron put his hands out in front of him as if he was framing an image. His eyes seemed to stare off into the distance. "Whenever you want to skive off an essay, all you have to do is whisper the subject at the Mind Rewind. The important bits that you've learned appear. All you have to do is go through it and edit as needed."

The two third years exited the store, excitedly whispering about their new purchase and attempting to hide it from their mums.

"It's a good product, one of our top sellers," Ron said to Harry when he spotted them. "The trick is to actually listen in class. How are you two, then?"

"Really excellent! I bought a wand, look!"

"Yeah, but don't wave it, unless Ron decides he's alright with eternal bubbles floating around his shop," Harry pointed out.

Ron thought for a moment. "I might be alright with that, actually, but I'll ask you to restrain yourself for now. George and I have been thinking about relocating to a bigger location and the bubbles might make this place a bit hard to sell."

As Claire showed off her new wand, Harry regaled Ron with the tale of Claire's cooking disaster.

"Oi! You should have invited her over for dinner! Where are your manners?" Turning to Claire, Ron continued. "My mum's throwing a big party for Harry's godson. It's his fifth birthday. Should be a great turnout. If anyone can teach you how to cook, it would be my mother."

Harry's insides squirmed, but years of practice had taught him how to keep his feelings under wraps. "Yes you should come! You'll get a chance to talk to Arthur without him bursting in on you randomly during the week. And Teddy, my godson, is really great. I'd be glad for you to meet him."

"You can meet my wife!" piped in Ron. "She's been itching for a new girl-friend ever since my sister's been away with the Harpies. Ginny should be there tonight, but she has to get back to training in the morning."

Harry couldn't hide how he felt about this statement. His face dropped as he avoided eye contact with his best mate. Ron knew how he still felt about Ginny, but there was nothing Ron could do to protect his feelings. It was apparent from the beginning of the break-up that the two would be thrown together at Weasley family gatherings regularly. There was a party at least once a month to celebrate the birthday of some child or grandchild.

The first few meetings had been especially painful. Harry had spent most of his time pleading with Ginny to rethink their separation. She stubbornly refused. Her voice still rang through his mind… _I just can't do it, Harry. Long distance relationships make no sense. I'm always busy with Quidditch while you're stuck in London at the Ministry. I can't get by on letters._

Since neither of them had agreed to forgo their current occupations, Ginny had refused to reunite with Harry. He left every event feeling as though his heart was crushed into even smaller pieces. Mending it seemed impossible.

Their random meetings had been, if possible, even more uncomfortable in recent months. Ginny obviously didn't want to talk about the past anymore and made it a point to refrain from being alone with Harry. Or she avoided him altogether.

Claire didn't seem to notice his change in mood. "That sounds like a lot of fun! Thank you so much for inviting me. What time should I be over?"


	3. A Burrow Birthday

Claire arrived at the Burrow a bit ahead of schedule. As she stepped onto the hearth, she was glad to have bundled up. The windows and doors of the cozy house were flung wide open, letting the spring air blow through. Claire estimated the temperature to be, at most, 60⁰F. The sun was still out, but as soon as it disappeared below the horizon she knew it would drop at least ten degrees. She was still getting used to British weather. Being from central Florida, Claire was used to sweating. The day she left home, the weather had been hovering around 87⁰, and very sunny. Since she'd been in the UK, she'd only seen the sun twice. She didn't want to admit it to her guests, but it was starting to get to her.

Claire wore denim jeans, sneakers, a long sleeved t-shirt and her favorite sweatshirt. It was a very worn hoodie that she had bought her second year of college. Very cozy, but out of place in her new surroundings.

While she took in the room a bit more, Claire heard voices coming from outside. As she peeked out the nearest window, she began to wonder if she really got there early…

Around twenty people were in the backyard performing a variety of tasks. A few women, who seemed about her age, were setting up decorations using magic. One seemed to be summoning helium balloons from thin air while the other two created bright but small lights in nearby bushes and trees. All of the women were extremely pretty, but with quite contrasting looks. The red-head, which she assumed was a Weasley, wore jeans and a long-sleeved flowery blouse that managed to show off her curves while remaining somewhat conservative. The second woman had very long, white-blond hair. She wore a baby-blue sundress with a cardigan, showing off her amazing legs. The third woman had full, curly brown hair, tied back in a loose bun. She wore a pencil skirt with a lacy blouse and sensible flats. Claire felt underdressed.

Most of the men were sitting on lawn chairs drinking what looked like beer. The vast majority of them had flaming red hair. Harry, Ron and George sat in a circle, chatting conspiratorially.

A small group sat to the side, huddling around two toddlers. The older, a boy, Claire assumed to be Harry's godson. His hair was sandy blond and his skin fair. The younger child was a girl, with white blond hair and piercing blue eyes. They were surrounded by several adults who supervised their play time.

Claire walked tentatively up to Harry and his posse. "Hey guys! I thought I would come early, but I guess I got the times mixed up…"

"You did get here ahead of time, but most people do for a Weasley gathering," Harry offered. "We like to make these get-togethers count."

"Claire, come and meet Hermione. She'll be glad of some more female company. She says there's things she can't talk to me about. It probably involves hair and blouses and Johnny Depp. It's important to give you fair warning." Ron led Claire up to the group of women she had observed earlier. They introduced themselves as Hermione, Ron's wife, Fleur, his sister-in-law, and Ginny, his sister.

Hermione did seem genuinely excited to meet Claire. The other women, although acting appropriately friendly to their visitor, seemed more wary of her presence.

"What have you been studying so far?" Hermione asked Claire. Her warm brown eyes shown with interest. She missed talking about school.

"I haven't learned anything yet. We just picked up my wand today, then Harry had to go by the ministry before dinner. I think we're going to work on basic charms to start out with and transfiguration later. I've read about potions, and I don't think it should be too difficult. It sounds a lot like my organic chemistry lab from home."

"What eez zis _lab_?" Fleur inquired, demonstrating her substantial French accent.

"We basically mixed chemicals to form crystals in different reactions. It seems like potions in the sense that if you mess up one ingredient, you come up with something completely different than what you're supposed to get. And then you fail the class. One time, I was heating some crystals over a flame on a crucible and I noticed it was falling. I grabbed it with my hand to keep it from spilling everywhere, but I burned my thumb and pointer finger really badly in the process. I had these huge blisters that really got in the way of my volleyball intramural game."

The women looked at her blankly. Claire decided to change the subject.

"So you play Quiddich, Ginny? What's that like?"

"Oh did Ron tell you about that?"

"Actually Harry mentioned it this afternoon. I think I have the basic rules down, but I'd love to watch a game."

"I absolutely love it," Ginny said. She beamed with pride as she told Claire about her adventures traveling with the team. "You should come watch sometime! I could get you a ticket if you'd like. Oh Merlin," Ginny seemed to have spotted something in the distance. "My mum's on her way over. Unless you want to be recruited, you'd better make a run for it."

"Actually, I came early to see if your mom would teach me to cook! I was totally lost this morning when I realized I have no electric appliances."

Molly Weasley, upon being introduced to Claire, gave her a bone-crushing hug and led her to the kitchen, where she promised to divulge a few of her most guarded family secrets.

* * *

Harry watched as Claire followed Mrs. Weasley back into the house. He was impressed by how well she seemed to get along with the other women. They were generally tough eggs to crack, although Hermione had a gap in her social life since Ginny had started playing for the Harpies. He wished he could get along with Ginny half as well.

He caught her eye for a moment. She smiled tentatively at him for a second, then broke eye contact and went back to decorating with her sisters-in-law.

Dinner was delicious, as usual. During the meal, which was held outside to accommodate the record number of guests in attendance, the conversation inevitably turned back to Claire and how she was adjusting… but not to the knowledge that she was a witch.

"You seem cold, dear!" Molly Weasley fussed. Indeed, Claire was shivering. By her calculations, the temperature had dropped to the low 50's, and her thin sweatshirt wasn't cutting it.

"I am definitely not used to cooler weather. We usually have two or three months of winter in Florida, tops. I only own three pairs of pants."

"How hot does it usually get in the States?"

"In Florida, where I'm from, it averages close to 100 degrees in the summer. Fahrenheit of course. In Celsius that would be around 37. And when I say summer, I mean the months of April through September."

Ginny looked shocked. "That sounds awful!"

"It really isn't. I guess I just like it hot." Harry , Ron and Ginny snorted into their food. Claire just smiled. "Come on guys, you know what I mean. I just think it's weird that I haven't seen the sun since I've been here. There aren't many things more cathartic than driving with the windows down with the radio blasting or spending a day at the beach."

"You can drive? I used to have an auto. It ran away, unfortunately," Arthur Weasley explained with uncommon zeal.

Harry exchanged an amused look with Ron. They harbored a special fondness for the old Ford Anglia.

After the cake was eaten and presents opened, Harry watched as Teddy's grandmother took him home to sleep. _The poor lad looks completely tuckered out._ The remaining group seemed to splinter into smaller groups. Claire wandered away with Hermione and Ron began helping his brothers clean up the decorations. Somehow, he found himself truly alone with Ginny for the first time in months.

"Congratulations are in order, I suppose. The Harpies haven't had such a good season in several decades."

Ginny gave him a smile that seemed weary. Harry knew that, even though they had fallen out in recent months, Ginny would have a hard time keeping secrets from him. "We've been playing better, yeah. I just can't stand Crozier. If he would sell the team, life would be so much sweeter." Ginny was notorious for butting heads with the Harpie's owner. She felt as though he showed favoritism towards the other two (male) chasers.

"Ah. Any new developments?"

"Just the usual. He designed five new plays centered on Moore, even though I score more goals than him every match."

An awkward pause seemed to worm its way into an otherwise pleasant conversation. Harry didn't have any other conversations starters that would keep them off the subject of how he was doing. He didn't want to admit that it was still difficult to function without Ginny. Unfortunately, she broke the silence.

"How are you doing?"

Harry paused for a moment, unsure of how much he should divulge of his feelings. The subject had been hashed over many times before. He decided to use a direct, but simple, approach. "I miss you."

To Harry's surprise, Ginny didn't launch into the speech that had become almost second nature to her. Instead, she gave a small sigh, looked Harry in the eyes, and led with, "I miss you, too..."

Harry felt his heart swell, then "…but I've been seeing someone this past month."

* * *

Claire had been happily chatting with Hermione for about ten minutes when she saw Harry and Ginny part ways. There seemed to be a lot of tension between the two of them. "Is there something going on with those two?"

Hermione looked sadly over at her two friends. "Something _went_ on for a long time. They dated for over five years, if you count the break that the war caused. I certainly count it. They never thought of anyone else during the whole time they were apart."

"What happened?"

"Oh you know… distance. At least that's what Ginny says. She's always been a bit of a free spirit. I think she just needed a little time before settling down for good."

"They were going to get married?"

"We all thought so, but it was never official. It looks like she just told Harry about Couvaris. He's one of the beaters on her team. She told me they've been on a few dates over the past two weeks. Says she really likes him…"

"It really sucks that your group is sort of splintered. I hate when ex's can't get along. Is it just me, or did Harry get you and Ron in the divorce?"

"It does seem that way doesn't it! She's never here, so that makes a difference. We still owl each other regularly, and we always write about the important things, but it's hard to be that close with someone you only see at family birthday parties. I expect she'll come home eventually, but until then I'm sticking with Harry."

Thirty minutes passed in easy conversation for the two women. They parted ways with plans to visit soon.

Claire wandered over to where Harry and Ron were nursing a couple of firewhiskeys. "I'm getting pretty excited to actually start some work tomorrow, Harry!"

He gave her a small smile before taking another swig. "So am I. I haven't taught since I was fifteen, but if this is half as much fun as the DA was I will be a happy man."

"Well," Ron said as he looked around the backyard at his lounging family, "once again I find that it is up to me to liven this place up."

"Ron, no! You've been drinking. Whatever you are about to say, it's going to be a terrible idea." Harry looked amused. He was anxious to see what his best mate would come up with today.

"Nah, this is a good one! It involves Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, a Monster Book of Monsters, and Crookshanks!"

"Ronald! You man NOT coerce my cat into a cage fight with a demon book! How many times do we have to go over this?" Hermione stood on the other side of the yard with her hands on her hips.

"But Hermione! We wouldn't actually be _watching_ the fight, so it's not like we'd be using it for entertainment purposes. We'd just place bets on the outcome!"

Harry leaned in close so he could whisper in Claire's ear, "He hates that cat. Don't tell Hermione. I wouldn't want them to get a divorce."

Ron had erupted into a fit of giddy laughter. Hermione, although putting forth a valiant effort, had begun to grin. "Good lord. We're going to have to do side-along apparition, aren't we. How many firewhiskeys did you have today?" Ron held up an arbitrary number of fingers.

"I love you, Hermione! " Ron wobbled over to his wife and enveloped her in a huge bear hug, sporting a stupid grin. "I love your huge brain and your enormous hair. But that cat…" Harry quickly hit Ron with a timely Jaw Lock Jinx. He released his friend a few moments later. Ron gave Harry a roguish grin. "Thanks, mate!"

"I think it's time for us to go home. Molly, dinner was splendid as always!" Hermione took Ron by the hand and gracefully twirled into nothingness.


	4. Did Somebody Say Draco Malfoy?

The next morning, Harry arrived at Claire's flat at 8 o'clock in the morning. Claire was sitting at her kitchen table eating cereal made mostly out of chocolate and reading the Daily Prophet. She looked up at him and smiled as Harry called out a greeting and stepped out of the hearth.

"Where do we begin, Professor?"

"At the very beginning. I'm rather impressed that you're reading the Prophet. Knowing what goes on in the wizarding world will give you more motivation to work hard at learning magic."

"Actually, I've been reading a lot of things. Those books that were here when I arrived have been fascinating! I read all about the goblin uprisings in the 1600's. I took a few history classes back home and it was really neat being able to piece those two different views of history together." Claire took another bite of cereal. She had been scanning her newspaper the whole time she was speaking, too focused on a story about a seven year old witch who had accidentally turned a booth at a muggle restaurant into pudding when her parents told her she couldn't have dessert. Claire wondered how her life might have been different had she let her emotions run away with her occasionally when she was a child. She had always tried to keep her feelings in check.

"You and Hermione are going to get along _so well._"

Harry and Claire worked on a basic outline for their lessons. Since Harry had to be present at the Ministry for at least half of every work day, they decided that the mornings would be split between charms and transfiguration. Hermione had volunteered to help with potions since it had never been Harry's strongest subject, and she would come over three times a week in the afternoon. Claire was to study History of Magic and Herbology on her own, with occasional supplemental visits from Harry's friends, Hagrid and Neville. Harry had decided to work elements of Defense Against the Dark Arts into his other lessons, but not to focus on them. His goal was to mainstream Claire into the magical world, not get her ready to fight dark wizards.

The two started off the day by practicing Wingardium Leviosa, the levitation charm. Claire managed to lift her pencil off the ground briefly after her seventh attempt, and by the end of the hour she could fly it across the room. Pleased with her progress, Harry managed to work in Alohamora and, just for fun, Locomotor Mortis. Harry lay on Claire's carpet while she practiced on him so he wouldn't fall and hurt himself when his legs locked together.

"This is so strange," Claire said after she had successfully locked Harry's legs for the third time. "It's not nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. It just feels like… I don't know, like the magic has been trying to get out for years."

"Yeah I can see what you mean." Harry picked himself up off the floor. He couldn't help but smile at the incredible strides his pupil had made in just a few hours. "You're going to have to practice these spells every day to keep up with them, but at this rate you could be caught up with charms fairly quickly."

Harry then set a match in front of her and instructed her to change it into a needle. After two hours of exhaustive attempts, Claire had only managed to turn the tip into metal.

"God dammit! Now this thing is completely useless. It can't stab anyone OR light a fire!"

"I agree. Completely counterproductive." Harry held in a smirk. He was glad to see that Claire wasn't a whiz at everything.

* * *

After Harry had left for the Ministry, Claire packed up a couple books detailing magical history and floo'd over to Diagon Alley. As she stepped into the afternoon sunshine, Claire finally felt at home. She couldn't quite bring herself to wear wizard robes for all occasions, so Claire sported her most comfortable pair of blue jeans and a fitted t-shirt that featured her college mascot. She stopped in a little café and sat outside under a brightly colored umbrella to eat lunch and read up on Goblin wars.

A light breeze blew past her, and as hard as she tried, focusing on her reading was difficult. People from seemingly all walks of life blew past her. A woman in traditional, full-length witch's robes walked past with a teenage girl. The girl wore a thin tank top and destroyed denim jeans. The only thing distinguishing her as a witch was the wand showing through a hole in her pants. Her mother appeared to be dragging her by an invisible tether.

Two thirteen year old boys half walked, half ran past where Claire was sitting in the shade of her umbrella. The only bit of their conversation she picked up was, "…and if she ignores you, that means she likes you!" It was only then that Claire noticed that they were following a giggling group of girls.

As Claire watched an elderly woman, obviously nursing a buzz, leave the Leaky Cauldron, she noticed two young men staring at her. One was very blonde and very pale with high cheekbones and a piercing gaze. He wore royal blue robes and a half smile. The other man had dark skin and eyes that were slightly slanted. He looked like he hadn't smiled in years. Both, she noticed, were very attractive.

When they caught her staring back, the men leaned toward each other and whispered a few words before heading in Claire's direction.

"So," said the blonde man as he sat down at Claire's table uninvited, "where are you from?" He looked directly into her eyes, while the darker man looked thoroughly uninterested.

"I'm from the US… how could you tell I'm new? I'm really trying to blend in here." Claire was feeling more and more uncomfortable about her choice of clothing. She had seen Harry and his friends wear muggle clothes for casual occasions, so she had assumed it would be normal garb on Diagon Alley. She had seen a few people in muggle clothes, but not as many as she had hoped.

"I've never seen you before. If you were a native I would have spotted you years ago. I'm Draco and this is Blaise. What brings you to England?" Draco still had that half smile on his face, and as much as Claire hated to admit it, it was having the desired effect. She was usually wary of overly confident men, but she really wasn't in a position to be turning down friends.

"I didn't know I was a witch until recently, and I came to brush up on my skills. The culture shock is intense."

Draco looked a little taken aback. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two. My dad was a wizard, but he died before I was born so I was raised by my mom. Last week I inadvertently sent about a dozen dirty dishes crashing through my roommate's bedroom door."

Draco's smile widened and Blaise raised his eyebrows at this bit of information. He spoke for the first time. "What did she do to make you so angry?"

"She was a skanky bitch." Claire's face remained stoic while Draco snorted in laughter. "It's not funny. She's a succubus. I'm so happy I've put an ocean between us..."

"Well, we're glad you're here," Draco continued. "My lunch break is almost over and I've got to get back to work, but do you want to get dinner sometime? I wouldn't want you to feel alone in a strange country."

Claire was mildly amused. _I should have moved to England _years_ ago!_ "That would be great! I don't know too many people here. And I don't want to bother the ones I _do _know night after night."

Draco told Claire about a restaurant and pub called The Three Broomsticks and they decided to meet the next day for dinner. "I'll owl you tomorrow," Draco said. Claire, a little confused by this statement, just nodded.

The two men excused themselves and Claire was left alone with her books. Even though the traffic on the street died down considerably by one o'clock, she still couldn't concentrate on her studies. She couldn't help it. She was excited about her upcoming "date."

* * *

When Harry arrived at Claire's flat the following morning, he could tell she was in a good mood. She couldn't seem to stop smiling. "What are you so cheery about this morning?" He was relieved that seemed to be enjoying herself. He had been worried that she would feel homesick, especially after spending an afternoon and evening by herself.

"Well," Claire began with a grin, "I went to Diagon Alley yesterday after you left to try and get some reading done. I've decided that's a terrible idea, by the way. Too distracting. Anyways, I think I've made a couple friends! We're meeting up for dinner tonight." She returned to reading her morning paper. Harry noticed she was tapping her toes to a song in her head.

"Who?"

"Hmmm?" Claire replied, not taking her eyes from the story she was reading.

"Who did you meet?"

Claire glanced at him and laughed. "Oh, hey there dad! When did you get here?"

"I'm just curious! I want to see if it's anybody I know."

"Their names were Draco and Blaise. One of them seemed nice enough…"

Harry pulled a face before he could help himself. "_Really?_ Which one? They were both such wankers in school, I can't picture them being nice to anyone."

Claire didn't seem bothered by his reaction. "Draco was friendly. Blaise was a tool. And you've been out of school for years now. People can change."

Harry hadn't heard any major news about Draco Malfoy in years. He did know that Malfoy worked at the Ministry, because he saw him in the Atrium from time to time. They only talked when absolutely necessary. However, Malfoy seemed to have grown out of his habit of belittling people and plotting to make their lives miserable. Harry just couldn't imagine such a drastic personality change that would make Draco _nice_.

* * *

When Harry got back to the Ministry after the day's lessons, he made a point to be more observant of the people around him. He hated to admit it to himself, but he was trying to catch a glimpse of Draco. It occurred to him how rarely he saw Malfoy. Harry wondered what his job was. He decided to pay a visit to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

"Watcher, Hermione!"

"Hey, Harry!" Hermione stopped rummaging through the numerous files in her office and greeted her best friend.

"Anything exciting going on today?" Harry liked to keep up with Hermione's work. He loved to hear about how she was making life better for magical creatures, House Elves in particular.

"This week has been unbelievably busy, actually." Harry thought she looked like she had been harassed. Her hair was showing flashes of how it had looked at Hogwarts; several strands had come loose from her bun. "I'm trying to get a Goblin to stop stalking a woman who bought his great grandmother's bracelet. Also, Grawp has been causing a bit of trouble in the Forest lately and the headmaster and I have been trying to decide on a reasonable solution. And don't look at me like that, Harry. Just because he can speak English doesn't mean he's ready to be unleashed on society."

"Fair enough. Listen, Hermione, do you know what department Malfoy works in?"

"You hadn't heard? He's an Unspeakable!" Harry absentmindedly took a step backwards. Hermione sat down at her desk and looked at him. "It makes sense, you know? He was an incredible Occlumens at a very early age. Who would be better at keeping secrets?"

"Oh, I don't know, someone with a moral compass, perhaps…"

"I heard he's really good at his job, but that's about all I've heard. Obviously, it's all top secret." When Harry looked unimpressed, Hermione began waving her hands around her head, adopting a 'mysterious' air, and moaning "_WoooOOooOOOOOOOo!_"

"That's enough!" Harry smiled despite his determination to maintain a steely expression. Hermione had really 'let her hair down' since her marriage to Ron. Harry thought they had both rubbed off on each other in the most positive ways.

"Why do you ask?"

"He introduced himself to Claire yesterday. They're meeting for supper."

"Oh. That is… interesting."

"I know. I figure I can't ask her to skip it since I've only known her a week, but I don't want her to fall in with the wrong people. Also, it just seems… wrong." Harry searched Hermione's walls with his eyes. He didn't want her to see right through him, like she so often did.

"Harry," Hermione began in a soft voice, "are you a tad jealous?"

_Damn her._ "Merlin, Hermione, no! She's a big girl, she can take care of herself. I just thought you might be interested in what our friend is up to. You're going over later to work on potions, yeah?"

"Yes, right after I get through with _this_." She motioned to a heap of files in the center of her desk. "I hope I haven't lost my touch."


	5. Date Night

Claire was reading her Herbology book when the owl arrived. She heard a distinct tapping noise, unnerving her in her quiet apartment. When she looked up and saw the bird at her window, her first thought was _Holy shit, that's awesome._ It was only when she went closer to get a better look at the creature that she noticed the note attached to its leg.

Claire had a flashback to the previous week, when she was still in Florida...

_As she turned left to pull into the parking lot, an owl swooped through the passenger window and out the driver's side window, nearly clipping Claire's face with its wing. After a very colorful exclamation of surprise, which she hoped none of her coworkers had overheard, she noticed that there was an envelope on the front passenger's seat that she didn't recognize._

Realization dawned on her in one fell swoop. Claire opened the window cautiously and the owl flew in and landed on her desk where she had been studying. She fumbled with the string attaching the note to the bird, but finally got it off. The note read,

_Claire,_

_It was so nice to meet you yesterday. Would you like to meet me at The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade for dinner at 8:00?_

_Draco_

The owl looked at Claire expectantly. She guessed this meant that she should respond. After a brief note with her consent was attached to the bird, it flew quickly and quietly out of her window again.

With an hour to go until 8 o'clock, Claire began to get ready for her night out. After putting on makeup and straightening her hair, she realized that she had started too early. She still had thirty minutes, and with the floo system there was no travel time to worry about! So far, this was her favorite thing about the wizarding world.

At eight o'clock, Claire arrived at the Three Broomsticks. She took in the warm and cozy atmosphere at once. There were booths along the wall and tables all around, and most of them were filled with people. Draco was easy to spot in the crowd. He waved her over to his corner booth and stood up to greet her. Claire saw him take in her appearance.

"I like that you still aren't wearing robes," he said, eying her favorite dark-washed jeans and flowy, sleeveless blouse.

"It's just not me. I'd rather stick to what I know, at least when it comes to clothes."

"Fair enough."

Draco asked Claire a lot of questions about herself. She told him about what she had been learning and who she had been teaching her. When she mentioned Harry's name, Claire registered the brief look of surprise and annoyance on Draco's face. He quickly changed his expression to the neutral one he had previously.

"I saw that," Claire told him, giving him a knowing look.

"Saw what?"

"That look. What's the deal with you and Harry?"

"There's no deal. Hasn't been a deal in years."

Claire was still studying him scrupulously. "Come on, Draco. I've told you all about my family and my home and everything I've been doing in England. Now it's your turn to share something interesting."

"I never said your stories were interesting…"

Claire tried her best to look offended, but Draco was smirking again, and it just made her smile. He sighed. "I was… different when I was in school. Before the war. And during, I suppose. I'm not proud of how I acted. I've really had to rebuild myself since all that ended. Potter was always a favorite of teachers, what with being The Chosen One, and that got on my nerves. He didn't like me because I acted like a prat. It didn't help that we were in rival houses." Draco had been staring at the table while he said all of this, but when he finished he finally returned her gaze.

"It must have been scary… the war I mean."

"It was. It wasn't like muggle wars. You aren't recruited by your government to fight. Either you volunteered your services to the Ministry, or the other side forced you to work for them. They would threaten to kill everyone you love, and then after you got to witness it, they would finish you off." Draco still looked directly at her, as if daring her to ask what side he had been on. Claire didn't take the bait.

They returned to other topics of conversation. Draco told Claire a little about his job at the Ministry. When she asked what he did on a daily basis, he said "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Claire laughed at the reference, but then stopped when she couldn't figure out if he was actually joking.

Claire told Draco how friendly the Weasley's had been since she'd arrived, and she swore she could tell that Draco was physically trying not to roll his eyes. Despite the fact that he obviously did not get along with her new friends, Claire thoroughly enjoyed his company. The conversation flowed with ease. He made her laugh out loud several times with his outlandish stories. It was apparent that he and Blaise got into trouble regularly.

"...The next morning, I woke up completely starkers. Obviously I was right knackered, from getting rat-arsed the night before. Even with my eyes half closed I could see the apartment was all sixes and sevens, and this slapper was halfway across the room, looking zonked as well mind you, with bogeys all over her face. I couldn't be completely gutted by the state of things, since I couldn't remember what happened after that last pint. And Bob's your uncle!"

Draco laughed to himself, partly because he was reliving one of his craziest nights and partly because of the lost look on Claire's face.

The two had eaten their meals and paid. Draco had finished off a couple of Firewhiskeys over the course of the night, while Claire had tried a red current rum. Feeling relaxed, confident, and a little tipsy, Draco made another proposition.

"I've been to this night club in muggle London a few times with Blaise and had a brilliant time. Would you want to go check it out with me?"

Claire smiled and excitedly replied, "Hell yeah! I want to _dance_."

"Well I've never been on a Friday, so I hope it's still a decent crowd. Have you ever done a side-along apparition?"

"No… That's the thing where you teleport, right?"

"Merlin…"

The two stepped out of the front door of the restaurant. Draco reached down and grabbed Claire's hand. She smiled at him, until she realized why he had done it. Draco twisted in place and it was like the world caved in around her with crushing force.

* * *

That night, Harry had joined Ron and Hermione for dinner at their home. The two had gotten engaged the night of Hermione's graduation from Hogwarts and married a year later. By that time, Ron was "bringing home the bacon" from his job as partner at Weasley Wizard Wheezes and Hermione had begun an established career at the Ministry. Because of their shared success, they had been able to afford a small house in Ottery St. Catchpole.

As they finished the main coarse, pork and applesauce with roast potatoes and peas, Hermione let the men do the dishes. It was a tradition she had begun the day she and Ron moved in together. "We both work all day," she had said, "so here's how we'll go about dinner. I will cook us a delicious meal, but you have to clean up after. It's only fair." Ron, who never refused a meal in his life, readily agreed.

"Hermione, that was particularly tasty," Harry told his best friend when the three of them had settled down for dessert. Hermione always whipped up some treacle tart when she knew Harry was coming over.

"Thank you! Molly's been teaching me a few tricks, if you hadn't noticed." Ron grunted his agreement from the sofa. He had finished his tart first and was rapidly slipping into a food coma. "I talked to Claire a little about Malfoy this afternoon, by the way. She didn't seem smitten or anything. I think she just wants to make friends. You can't really blame her."

"Are you gonna rebound with her, mate? She seems quite nice. Always stops in to say hello when she's in Diagon Alley." Ron spoke with his eyes closed.

"It's just too weird to talk about. I feel like were plotting for you to cheat on Ginny. I know its been a while, but I can't get used to the two of you being apart." Hermione looked concernedly at Harry, who was in no mood to be pitied.

"Nah, its time for him to get out there. She's been acting bloody weird for months now, running around town with that beater. That bloke is massive, by the way. He's got biceps as big as my head."

"Thanks, Ron, that's definitely what I need to hear at the moment."

"You know what, though? I don't think she likes him as much as she lets on. It seems like an act she would pull when she was younger, like she's trying to rebel."

"You can't say that, Ron." Hermione gave her husband a stern look. "We should take her at her word. There's no use assuming that she's being dishonest. Harry should move on and find a girl who will appreciate him."

"I know I should. It's just harder than I ever imagined it would be. And I can't stand the idea of Ginny shagging that twit. Sorry, Ron."

"Well, they aren't. She told me they're just seeing each other casually, not moving fast at all. So you don't have to worry about that," Hermione said, to reassure both men.

"Please _Muffliato_ me if you feel like continuing in this line of conversation," Ron said, as he stared at the ceiling listlessly.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, either. I really am curious to see what Claire thinks of Malfoy, though. I wonder what he's like now." Harry finished his dessert, took his plate to the kitchen and washed it. When he reentered the room, he had the familiar sensation that Ron and Hermione had been having a conversation about him just a moment before. Harry knew better by now, and decided not to press them for answers.

* * *

As quickly as the crushing blackness had begun, it stopped. Claire gasped for breath and took in her unfamiliar surroundings. She and Draco stood in a dark alley next to a solitary door. There were garbage cans and stray cats all around, but Claire could hear base pounding away, confirming her suspicions that they were right outside the club.

"Did you bring me here to kill me?" Claire said with a smirk.

"Funny," replied her date. He did not seem amused. "We're here because I don't like standing in line. This, madame, is the fire exit!"

"Aren't those things usually locked?"

"Yes. It's a good thing we can do magic."

"Question: won't you seem a little out of place in those robes?"

"I would, yes, but I can fix that." Draco took out his wand and gave it a little twirl. Before her eyes, Draco's clothes changed from traditional robes to modern club wear. He wore black slacks with a black button down and black shoes.

"I'm sensing a theme," Claire commented, as she took in his new attire. "Did you transfigure your clothes?"

"Nope. It's an illusion. The spell simply makes others perceive me as wearing this outfit. I'm still wearing my robes."

"Oh my god. You could, hypothetically, wear pajamas all day long. That's incredible! Do me?"

"On the first date?"

"No! I mean, will you make it so people think I'm wearing something nicer? More appropriate?"

Draco looked Claire up and down, with a devilish smirk. "Yes, I think that can be arranged." He waved his wand in her direction. Claire felt a slight rippling effect overcome her, but when she looked down she was still wearing jeans.

"Did it work?"

Draco's eyes darkened as he looked at her. "Oh, yes. It most definitely did."

"Oh, _that's_ reassuring. Shall we?" Claire motioned to the door.

"Allow me." Draco pointed his wand at the lock and Claire heard it open with a _click_. He opened the door. The two stood in amazement at what was going on inside the club. "Merlin's sweaty jockstrap. No. No no no. We have to get out of here." Draco grabbed Claire's hand and started dragging her away.

"Draco, NO! Don't you see? It's 80's night!"

It was true. When the door was flung open, they had been greeted by the glorious sound of _Billie Jean_ and the sight of hundreds of people in neon.

"I don't do 80's. I'm sorry. I never lived in the muggle world. I just don't get what you people see in that wretched clothing. And the _music_!" Draco scrunched his face in disgust.

"What are you talking about? It's _Michael Jackson_!" As he pulled her away from the door, she moonwalked in his wake.

"I know you aren't really wearing heels, but that looks so damn impressive."

"DRACO! They dress up! _Please_ can we go?"

"There is no possible way I would endorse a change in your outfit right now."

"Why… What am I wearing?" Claire tried to make out Draco's face in the dark. He was still holding her hand tightly in his. When he turned to face her, light from a nearby window caught his eyes. She could see that he was enjoying this small struggle.

He leaned in close and whispered softly in her ear, "Wouldn't you like to know…"

Before she could say, "Yes, actually I would," he had picked her up in a crushing hug that almost disguised the sensation of apparition. The next moment, they were standing outside of her apartment door, Draco still holding her _very_ tightly.

Draco fluidly pushed her up against the wall beside her door, leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was soft at first, but quickly grew in intensity. One of his hands, still holding her own, Draco kept pinned to the wall beside them. He allowed the other to roam freely. Claire could feel him touching her waste, holding her close. Her free hand was holding his neck for support. When Draco's hand moved north to her right breast, Claire surprised herself by letting it.

Draco's lips left hers and began to travel down her neck. He stopped at her collarbone for a moment before moving back up again. He briefly sucked at her earlobe before whispering huskily, "Can I come in?"

Claire took a deep breath and steadied herself. "No." She opened her eyes and saw that his were a few inches away. "I just met you. I'm sorry."

"Tease," Draco said with a half-smile.

"Oh, come on! You were the biggest 80's tease just a few minutes ago! There's no way I would let you in after that poor showing."

"That's not fair."

"You made your bed."

"Poor choice of words, love." Draco breathed in deep and stepped away from her. "I'm sorry. That was a bit forward of me. The sight of you in that dress…" He shook his head, as if trying to clear the cobwebs. He waved his wand, and she felt the same rippling as before. She knew he could see her casual outfit again. "Actually, that didn't help very much."

Claire let herself in. A pop from outside her door let her know that Draco had gone. She let out a low whistle and gave herself a mental high five for incredible willpower.


End file.
